EARTH'S MOMENTS OF GLOOM.

The heart hath its moments of hopeless gloom,

As rayless as is the dark night of the tomb;

When the past has no spell, the future no ray,

To chase the sad cloud from the spirit away;

When earth, though in all her rich beauty arrayed,

Hath a gloom o'er her flowers — o'er her skies a dark shade,

And we turn from all pleasure with loathing away,

Too downcast, too spirit sick, even to pray!

Oh! where may the heart seek, in moments like this,

A whisper of hope, or a faint gleam of bliss?

When friendship seems naught but a cold, cheerless flame,

And love a still falser and emptier name;

When honors and wealth are a wearisome chain,

Each link interwoven with grief and with pain,

And each solace or joy that the spirit might crave

Is barren of comfort and dark as the grave.

Lift — lift up thy sinking heart, pilgrim of life!

A sure spell there is for thy spirit's sad strife;

‘ Tis not to be found in the well-springs of earth,—

Oh! no,‘ tis of higher and holier birth.